by Marian Tee
There was no doubt that Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery had loved each other exclusively and passionately, but the way they loved had still been wrong, and it had scarred Devon for good. Love repulsed him like a horrible disease, and he would do everything to prevent it from entering his life. It was why, Charlotte knew, he had asked for her help. But what Devon didn’t know was that Charlotte was determined to do the opposite.
Devon was a good man, and he deserved to find the right woman for him.
And so she lied, “Absolutely.” In their prior agreement, Devon had asked for a woman down on her luck and would be on her knees in gratitude for his proposal. He had wanted someone mousy, plain, and domesticated.
Well, Hilary White was all that…for now. With the right man to make her bloom, Charlotte was sure she would be more than beautiful. She would be mesmerizingly vibrant, a woman who could love so selflessly that she just might make the ice around Devon’s heart crack.
Soon, Devon and Hilary would finally meet, and the knowledge had Charlotte cautioning him, “Remember. I had to write letters to her on your behalf---”
“As long as you didn’t lie about anything---”
“Of course not!” And she hadn’t, but she did make him sound more romantic.
“Then there’s nothing to worry about. I will make sure she does not find out I had written the letters.” A few minutes later and Devon ended the call, his pensive gaze on the photo. There was something about the woman on the photo that called out to him. Devon was a man with very selective tastes in women, but everything he wanted this woman had. Her skin was gorgeous and creamy, and her lips were small and pink – he would like to see them stretched when she took his cock into her mouth for the first time.
But more than anything, what attracted Devon the most was the promise that she had something which most women lacked – a rare immunity to material possessions.
It was what Charlotte’s report had suggested, which included her school and work records, credit reports, and a detailed summary from an investigator who was hired to follow her for one week.
If she really was what all these documents suggested she was, then Hilary White was indeed a most suitable bride, and Devon could not wait until he had the right to claim her sweet curvy body.
****
More than a thousand miles away, Hilary White was seated on an old leather swing chair, legs tucked Indian style, and facing her tiny desk. She had long brown hair that matched the shade of her eyes, and her body had more curves than what was fashionable. At that moment, she was also completely unaware of being the object of desire of a billionaire rancher.
The room she was in was small and cramped, sparsely furnished and with peeling wallpaper. Across the woman’s desk was a tiny window, which sadly didn’t show any of the spectacular nightscape Miami was much known for. Instead, it only showed the cracked concrete façade of the apartment building next to hers – and nothing else. It was an uninspiring sight, and it was one of the many reasons Hilary “Harry” White had finally found the courage to sign up with Heart’s Match, an agency that specialized in bringing prospective couples together.
When Harry had come across the website while looking for Western romances to read, she had been initially skeptical. It had the “mail-order-bride” feel to it, but surely that was ludicrous? Surely no one would say ‘yes’ to becoming a mail-order bride at this day and age?
Or at least no one, Harry had thought with a heart beating rapidly in rising excitement, except her.
She was so sick of living in the city. If she had the money to do so, she would have left a long time ago and moved to somewhere in the country. She wanted to live in a place surrounded by nature, but the hows and whys were terrifying to think of, and so she had just dreamt and dreamt, knowing that was all it wamount to: dreams never to come true…until now.
According to the website, the agency was only looking for women ready to settle down for marriage and domestic bliss in the heart of Texas. Only women considered suitable would be contacted, and to be considered suitable interested parties were to submit their resumes – just like in job applications! – and a letter stating their reasons for wanting a match arranged for them.
Hilary had poured her heart out in that letter – and now this.
Dear Miss White,
That one line had Hilary “Harry” White’s heart beating madly. Practically everyone nowadays used the abbreviated form of ‘Miss’. To do the opposite was old-fashioned, and that was the very reason why Harry was so wonderfully happy at seeing the word ‘Miss’ spelled in its entirety.
Taking a deep breath, she moved on to the next line of the letter.
I am deeply thankful that you have agreed to my proposal. You sound like a well-rounded and sensible woman, and I do believe we will get along very well.
Hilary’s lips curved in a rueful smile. Her match made her sound like an old frump.
I shall be fetching you personally at the San Antonio International Airport. I will be wearing a white shirt and jeans. I shall be looking for a beautiful brunette wearing a red dress.
Until we meet,
Your match
And that was that, Harry thought, smiling again. She had heard Texans being described as men who didn’t talk much, the proverbial strong and silent type. That was a dream come true for her, too. Here in the city, men talked too much – and most of the time, they talked about themselves. It would be incredible to meet a man who didn’t talk or act like he walked on water.
Hilary lovingly folded the letter and slid it back into its envelope before moving to the next letter, this time from the agency’s representative.
We are delighted to inform you that the individual we have selected for you has offered a proposal of marriage. As stated in our contract, every individual we consider for matchmaking has been thoroughly investigated. You have nothing to worry about regarding your personal safety.
Following are the details regarding your match.
Initials: D.J.M.
Residence: Evergreen, Texas
Age: 35
Field of work: Ranching
Harry sighed dreamily. With her eyes closed, it was quite easy to dream of a man who toiled in his ranch diligently during the day and eager to come home to his loving wife – that would be her! – in the evenings. She couldn’t picture his face just yet, but that didn’t matter. She had never been the type to care much about looks anyway. Even if her future husband turned out to be hideous in appearance, Harry was sure she would still fall in love with him as long as he had a good heart and proved to be a loving husband to her.
Enclosed is your flight’s itinerary and with everything already paid for by your match. Please be reminded that you are to make a decision as to whether or not to push through with the agreed marriage in 24 hours. We encourage you to review the terms and conditions of our contract prior to confirming your acceptance or rejection of the proposal.
If you have any concerns or questions, we are at your disposal.
Sincerely,
Mrs. Charlotte Carmichaels
As Harry curled up to sleep on her narrow creaking bed, her mind drifted towards the future, which now held such promise when once it only meant an endless dreary routine. Absently, she cast a look around her apartment, with its ancient furniture and even more ancient appliances, all of which she had inherited from the tenant before her. If she and her future husband lived in a room just like this, it wouldn’t be so bad. At least then she would have someone to share her life with.
That was all, Harry thought wistfully, she ever really wanted. For once in her life, she just wanted to feel like she belonged to someone – and that someone would want to belong to her, too.
Chapter Two
Not everyone was happy with Harry’s dream, as was proven when she went to work on her last day at Sweet Life, a mid-sized real estate agency that occupied the entire second floor of an old, ugly building downtown.
Every morning, Harry’s hea
rt would be heavy as she headed to work, knowing that the day would be the same as the one before – and the hundreds of days before it. She knew exactly what would happen at 8:02 (taking the garbage out), at 1:15 (eating her homemade sandwich for a late lunch) and at 5:23 (locking up as the last one to leave the office).
But this morning was different. This morning would be the last time she’d see what should have been her second home (Harry had worked at the Sweet Life for eight years) but had always felt like a prison. Today would be the last time she would feel claustrophobic by the ever-busy crowds – people who all had places to go. Everyone had a place to go but her.
This morning was the last of its kind, and Harry was so happy and excited just thinking of what the next day would bring that she had been unable to stop smiling. Or at least until Walter Chapman, her boss, asked her to come to work tomorrow – a Saturday – for “emergency” reasons.
When Harry gently reminded him she was due to leave tomorrow, the large blustery man immediately blew his top.
“You can’t just resign!” Walter was looking at her like she had just grown two horns. A man in his fifties and on his way to his fifth divorce, the real estate agency owner completely relied on Harry’s niceness to take over all the unpleasant tasks that came with the business.
Harry’s official designation was that of an administrative assistant, but she was really more like a general dogsbody, assigned to run everyone’s errands, which included cleaning Walter’s office daily, taking multiple trips to Starbucks, and even picking up the girls’ laundry. All the agents in his agency were females. Walter liked to call them “my beautiful girls” and since their bonuses tended to be a lot larger when they allowed him the occasional cop, his beautiful girls didn’t seem to mind.
Walter’s raised voice had the girls outside his office looking at them through the un-tinted windows, some even peeking through the open doorway with shameless curiosity.
Harry tried to explain once more. “Sir---”
“No! I don’t want to hear a word again!” Walter really did not want to. For one horrible moment, he had imagined what his company would be like without Harry to smooth things over, and it was not good. Damn ungrateful girl, Walter thought. Didn’t she know how lucky she was to be working at his agency even if she was no good to look at and hadn’t even finished college?
Harry said sadly, “I’m sorry, sir, but I must leave tomorrow.”
“You will NOT leave,” Walter bellowed, “and that’s FINAL!” Sheer rage had him throwing the sheaf of papers he was holding at Harry, which hit her smack in the face.
The whole office fell silent.
Harry’s eyes stung, but she strove not to blink, not wanting to cry. Her cheeks hot with humiliation, she forced herself to kneel down and pick up the papers Walter had thrown at her. Nearly a decade of working for Walter, and he still treated her no better than a stray dog hoping for crumbs, Harry thought sadly. Once, she had foolishly wished that Walter might look upon her as a surrogate daughter. Later, she had only wanted him to just treat her like another human being.
But it was really not meant to be. This was not where she belonged.
Getting back to her feet, she quietly handed the documents back to her boss – or ex-boss. “I think it’s better if I leave today instead, sir.”
The calm dignity in the words pricked his conscience, which Walter did not like at all, causing him to feel defensive and desirous to lash out. “Go then,” he sneered. “I’m well rid of you! You’ve contributed nothing to the company in all the years you’ve been working for me. You’re a mousy little idiot that I only hired out of pity, and this is how you repay me? Get out of here and never come back!”
The words made it harder for Harry not to cry, but still she strove not to, telling herself that someone like Walter Chapman did not deserve her tears.
A heavy silence weighed down on everyone at the wake of Harry’s departure, who carried with her a pitiful amount of belongings in a small cardboard box. She had been working the longest for Walter, but it said a lot about his appreciation of her work that she was also the only one who did not have her own desk at the office.
“Don’t feel sorry for her, you idiots.” Caryn, one of Walter’s girls, snapped. She had never really liked Harry. The girl had seemed to think too highly of herself, which was stupid, considering she lived in the seediest part of the city and only wore ugly clothes to work.
She waved a piece of paper in the air, making everyone look at her. When she had heard Harry was leaving, Caryn had curiously rummaged through the other woman’s bag, wondering if there was a clue she could pick up about Harry’s next plans.
“She’s marrying some dirt poor cowboy and helping him with his tiny ranch.” Caryn laughed harshly. “A mail-order bride in this day and age! Is she for real? She’s going to be trafficked and sold to some old perv.”
“Where did you get that letter?” This came from Elsie, the newest agent at Sweet Life and the only one who hadn’t allowed Walter to enjoy any advances with her.
“It fell out of her bag.”
Elsie didn’t believe Caryn, and by the looks on the other girls’ faces, she had a feeling most of them didn’t, too. But what was there to do? She cast an unhappy look at Caryn as the other woman entertained the office with more information about Harry’s flight to Texas.
Elsie felt terribly guilty, fearing there was truth in Caryn’s words about Harry being a victim of some odious human trafficking ring or a con artist. She had always liked Harry. She had always wanted to befriend the other woman because she seemed so lonely, but Elsie had been so caught up with her own life that she ended up not doing anything at all.
Her eyes closed as she said a quick prayer. Please keep her safe.
Impulsively, Elsie searched for Harry on Facebook and was relieved to see that the woman had an account. She frowned when she saw that the last time Harry had gone online was months ago, and another wave of guilt washed over her as she saw that Harry only had two old women as friends on Facebook.
She sent a friend request and prayed to God once more that Harry would be okay.
****
Outside the bustling airport of Miami, Harry was pulled into a tight hug by Mrs. Crow. “Take care of yourself there.” The words were spoken by the grey-haired widow gruffly. Mrs. Crow was Harry’s landlady and considered the younger woman as her own daughter. “You’ve got the pepper spray I gave you?”
Harry nodded dutifully. “I’ve it here in my pocket, Mrs. Crow. Thank you for it.”
It was Suzy’s turn to hug her. “You are crazy to do this,” Suzy moaned. A former B actress and recovering alcoholic, Suzy tended to be melodramatic even though it had been a good three decades since she last starred in any film. “What if no one comes to fetch you and you try going to your destination alone? I have nightmares of you being picked up by a serial killer. And please don’t hire a car! Because you could up taking a wrong turn and---”
“Shut up, Susan,” Mrs. Crow growled to her sister, but she felt herself going pale at the words. “I almost want to lock you up, but I know how stubborn you are. You might end up jumping out of the window if I did.”
Suzy pinched Harry’s cheeks, painfully enough to make Harry squeak. “And don’t forget what I told you – if anything seems fishy, anything at all, come back to us, okay? You can live with us in the meantime.”
“Please don’t worry about me. I’m going to be fine. Nothing’s going to happen. I checked the agency and it has an A-rating from the BBB---”
Mrs. Crow groaned. “Harry! Please tell me that’s not your only reference? BBB also ended up giving an A to a terrorist organization. You do know that, don’t you?”
“Of course I do.” No, actually, she didn’t, which was why it was a good thing Harry had managed to stop herself from telling the older woman the A-rating from BBB had been her only reference.
But really, she didn’t care if the entire thing looked suspicious. All she kne
w was that her heart was telling her it was the right thing to do.
Mrs. Crow grumbled, “I just don’t understand why you can’t date him first. That’s what normal people do.”
“What if he ends up stealing all your money?” Suzy demanded anxiously. “He’s just a rancher. What if all he can give you are, I dunno, tomatoes and horse shit?”
Harry was saved from replying when she heard her flight being called. “I’ll miss you two.” It hit her then. She really was leaving, and who knew when she would see the two again? Impulsively, Harry hugged Mrs. Crow and Suzy one last time. “Thank you for all the help you’ve given me over the years,” she whispered shakily.
By the time Harry disappeared into the airport’s departure hall, both women were doing their best to sniff back tears.
“She’s never really fit in here,” Suzy murmured. “We’ve always known that. Maybe it was better she got to leave before she lost the stars in her eyes.”
“I suppose so.” Mrs. Crow was not the type to pray, but for the sake of Hilary White, she found herself doing so. If there was anyone in the world who deserved a happily-ever-after, then it was that young woman.
Chapter Three
Devon had no problems spotting his fiancée. Her long dark hair was brushed neatly back, and the serious expression on her heart-shaped face tempted him to do something, not to make her smile but to make her moan and reveal her secret passionate self, the one Devon was sure even she didn’t know about.
Her red dress was modest, if not a little old, and hinting of womanly curves. The dress made him think of her as Little Red Riding Hood, which he supposed made him the Big Bad Wolf. The thought almost had him frowning. He was expecting too much from Hilary White, and he reminded himself that having read the reports given to him by the agency did not really mean he knew her inside and out.
